Monday, November 29, 2004

The Dark Lives of Spinal Pixies

Deep within the dark folds of your comforter, curled in the coils of your bed, live creatures of such a vile nature. They lurk in the battening of your pillow top, waiting. They are the Spinal Pixies, and today we shall look into their world, and understand their fiendish nature. Oh wait here come two now, lets have a listen:

"Oy! Chuck pass me the 'umber 2 drill."

"Ummm, okay boss." He replied with an orcish grunt. His voice having all the elocution of half wit who was down by a third. By far the slower, and dumpier of the two reached into a hole in the mattress and withdrew a six inch rusted drill bit, locked crooked in the clutch of a hand drill. As he dragged the mechanical monstrosity to Umbrelgroglshig, the other one, the grotesque creature stumbled on a fold of the top sheet and sprawled out across the bed.

"'Areful they ye nim wit, numskull, boobled-headed ninny!" Decried Umbrelgroglshig. "Give it 'ere, 'efore you wake this bloke up."

Chuck, with great huffing and heaving, passed the drill to Umbrelgroglshig. Umbrelgroglshig took up the drill in his two immense, spindly, warty hands, and placed the pitted drill be to the human's lower back. As the drill was pressed to the skin it passed through, seemingly out of phase with reality, no skin was broken, no blood drawn, just two objects intersecting in some inconceivable way. Chuck stood to the side; a look of lust mixed with incomprehension filled his face as he stared at their victim. Umbrelgroglshig tapped his foot with his impatiens, "You gonna just stand there, or are you gonna do 'our job!"

"Ummmmm, sorry boss." Chuck sputtered out, as he traversed his way to the head of the slumbering human. Flapping his ragged bat like wings, which seemed impossible small to actually lift the tubby beast, Chuck raised up to the nose of the unsuspecting sleeper. Placing his hairy armpit to the nose of the human, Chuck then gritted in deep concentration, and great waves of stink lurched forth from his underarm, seemingly repulsed by their own strength, and nearly visible in the still night air, the drove into the nasal cavities of this nights quarry. Swirling about the nightmarish odours filled the man with vivid dreams of dental work, whizzing drills, the smell of grinding tooth, and the stern disapproval of his flossing habits. Filled with unrest and horrors, the stage was now set for Umbrelgroglshig to begin his most sinister work.

Steel against steel the gears of the drill cried out in pain, as if they had never moved in the last 40 years. Like a terrifying shriek it pierced the stillness of the night, and then returned from the gloomy corners of the room like a haunted wail. The noise stirred a great feeling inside Umbrelgroglshig which spurred him on, enthusiastically he pressed on cranking the great drill. From the deep and rotted groves of the drill bit came the first chips of spine, fresh and white. The white gleamed in Umbrelgroglshig filling him with such joy, the same joy that the shining mane of a unicorn stirs in a maiden pure of heart.

Suddenly, the great human stirred, Chuck blurted out, "Ummmmm, he's coming around." Chuck flapped his silly wings as hard as he could and rose up of the human face. Shaken from his reviver, Umbregroglshig quickly withdrew the drill, it made and ethereal sucking pop as with came free of the humans back. He tossed the drill to Chuck who was hovering above their mattress cave entrance. Chuck grabbed the drill from midair and suddenly found his scrawny wings unable to support himself and the drill. With futile flapping he sunk into their cave like a fish swimmer off the mafia docks of New York.

With unexpected speed and agility Umbregroglshig collected the fragments of spine he had so carefully mined. Each one a precious gem, he tucked them safely into his ore pouch. Then as the flesh back came rolling down on him from above, he dove for the safety of his cave. The human sealed the dark entrance with his back, like the slamming of the cover of a book.

Both Umbregroglshig, and Chuck panted with exhaustion from the flurry of activity, then in the darkness they began to laugh, a laugh of evil, a laugh most foul. Opening the ore bag, Umbregroglshig peered inside and laughed louder yet. As these words came to his lips, the darkness gathered close to bear witness to their sinister promise. "A great 'aul we have had 'ere Chuck, a great 'aul indeed. Soon we shall have enough, enough to trade to our dark masters, enough to trade for dark powers..." Then once more he broke into an evil and maniacal cackle, to which joined in with the guffawing laugh of the minion.

So now you know good readers of the dark and dreadful realm of the Spinal Pixies. Should you awake one morning from frightful dreams and sore back, you may think to yourself what a terrible bed I must have. Or perhaps, just maybe, it is not the bed that is so terrible, but those who live inside it!

Geoffrey Peart
Copyright 2004.
All rights reserved.

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